Under the Unlucky Star
by Hopeakaarme
Summary: AU. Remus Lupin kidnaps the fouryearold Harry after seeing how he's treated at the Dursleys'. This soon becomes a journey to hide from both the Ministry and Sirius Black, who's escaped from Azkaban... COMPLETE. SLASH RLSB.
1. The Stranger

Disclaimer: I own very little.

A/N: This fic has been up but un-updated in FA since July. No, no kidding. Another one of my first-chapter-writer blocks, the most annoying sort.

I can't recall having this one here before (I might have had it, and then removed) but, oh well, I revised the first chap and started to finally write the next, so deal with it.

* * *

Under the Unlucky Star 

Chapter One:

The Stranger

* * *

Fifteenth of August 1984 was a really important day to many people. 

That day, Harry never came back from the park.

He wasn't actually even allowed to be there, as the Dursleys didn't want anyone to know that there indeed was another boy in their house. Only Mrs. Figg, an old woman down the road, had ever been visited by little Harry. She liked the emerald-eyed little boy -- not that he'd ever dared to tell this to the Dursleys.

Anyway, Aunt Petunia had decided to take Dudley to the park so he could play there with his friends. Harry was, of course, left home. This didn't bother him, however. With Dudley leaving, he could in peace play with the couple of toys that the bigger boy hadn't broken yet. Uncle Vernon was going to take a nap, and he didn't bother looking after the four-year-old, other than telling him not to break anything or he'd spend the next two weeks closed in a cupboard.

Little Harry was obedient. He didn't break anything. Instead, he played in the garden with his toys -- a little teddy bear which had only one eye, a toy car with no wheels at all, and a ball which had ages ago lost all its colour. Those all were toys Dudley had abandoned and didn't play with anymore, and that was also why Harry'd been allowed to have them.

Now, he was having a nice little game of "Bobby the Bear drives around the gum ball on his red car," with no other worries than that Dudley and Aunt Petunia would come back. Aunt Petunia still allowed him to play, of course; he was too young to do any chores other than collect Dudley's toys, which he'd already done. But, his cousin would for sure take his toys away, saying that he wanted to play with them. Aunt Petunia would allow him, and then Dudley, who'd never played with anything belonging to Harry, would hide them away and it'd take a lot of time from him to find them.

The window was open, and he heard Uncle Vernon's mighty snoring from the living room. That told him that his uncle wouldn't come anytime soon yelling at him and telling not to break anything. After some time, he'd maybe manage to sneak inside and take the nice card out from its hiding place under his bed in the cupboard. Mrs. Figg had been kind enough to give him a cad for his fourth birthday, which had been two weeks ago. Of course Dudley had got loads of presents on _his_ birthday, but it didn't really matter to Harry. The card was nice, with bright colours and a pretty picture. Aunt Petunia had also given him a card, but it hadn't been even half as nice, and Dudley'd anyway taken it from him, saying that it belonged to him because _his_ mother had given it.

Suddenly, little Harry heard an odd sound, CRACK. He looked around, half expecting Dudley to come and take his toys, but he saw no one. He wondered about this for a while, but, being four years old and out on a nice, sunny day, he soon forgot about it. It didn't matter that his toys were old, it didn't matter that his clothes were far too big, it didn't matter that eventually Dudley would come and ruin his games. Right now he had toys, a good game, and a nice card hid under his bed. He didn't need anything else.

The little boy was again startled as he heard an unfamiliar voice behind him. "Hello, Harry," somebody said, scaring him almost out of his skin.

With a little yelp he spun around. The voice hadn't sounded malicious, but better safe than sorry, that much had Harry already learned despite his fairly short life.

A stranger was standing in the garden, eyeing him watchfully. He was wearing very funny clothes to Harry's mind. A brown dress-like piece of clothing Harry had never seen before, and certainly not on a man, flowed around his legs in the slight summer breeze. He had a thin rope as a belt, and he had some kind of stick stuck under the belt on his right side. The stranger didn't look old, at least not in Harry's mind. He had golden brown hair, messy just like Harry's, and golden eyes with a warm glow to them that made him feel comfortable.

"Um... Hi," he said shyly after a moment, realizing that the man was waiting for response. There were a lot of things the Dursleys considered "bad," and being impolite to adults was one of them. Even Dudley had to greet and thank and say goodbye, so Harry for sure had to.

The stranger still watched him with his odd golden eyes. Then he took a couple of steps forward, crouching down next to Harry. "Are these your toys?" he asked, pointing at the bear, the car, and the ball.

"Yes," Harry replied, still shy. He was also a bit afraid of the stranger. Aunt Petunia had told them not to talk to strangers, because they could be bad. What if this was a bad stranger? What if he took Harry's toys away, too?

"This is a bit worn out," the man said, taking the ball in his hand and examining it.

Terror piled up inside Harry. Sometimes Aunt Petunia took a toy, Dudley's or Harry's, looked at it and said, "This is a bit worn out." If it was Dudley's, sometimes Harry would get it, and that was a good thing. But if it was Harry's, it'd only be thrown away, and he wouldn't even get a new one like Dudley always did. Was the stranger also going to throw his ball away?

Harry wanted to scream out, to tell the stranger to leave, to leave his toys in peace. But, he didn't dare to. The stranger could get upset, and then he'd take all his toys away, or even worse, tell Uncle Vernon. And then Harry'd be locked away in the cupboard, and maybe they'd even take his lamp away -- and his nice card! He didn't want to lose the card. So, he kept quiet.

"Why don't you play with those?" the man asked, pointing at some toys further away in the garden. There was a heap of neat, new stuff, cars and balls and even two tricycles. All those were things that Harry wasn't allowed to touch, besides the older tricycle if Aunt Petunia was feeling very kind. Which she didn't feel often.

"They're not mine, Sir," Harry replied shyly, knowing better than to leave the question unanswered. "They're Dudley's. I may not play with them."

The stranger frowned, looking angry. Harry took a startled step backwards. Had he said something wrong? Had he made the man upset? Had he -- had he been bad?

Now, Harry was more terrified than anything. He wasn't allowed to be bad, not ever. If he was bad, he would be locked in the cupboard with no lamp, and that he didn't want. The cupboard was scary when it was dark. There were spiders in the cupboard, and in the dark they would run over Harry's leg, and he was so scared. He never wanted to be bad.

The stranger seemed to notice his shock, and he sighed. "I'm not angry at you, Harry," he said gently, reaching out a hand to stroke Harry's cheek. The boy flinched at first a little, startled by the unfamiliar sensation, but soon relaxed. It felt in fact good to have someone touching his cheek. Maybe this was why Dudley always wanted to sit in Aunt Petunia's lap?

"Say, do you have any other toys, Harry?" the stranger continued his questioning.

Harry almost laughed. What a silly question! _Of course_ he had no other toys. He wasn't Dudley, he was just Harry. Harry didn't have a lot of toys. "No, Sir, I don't," he replied politely, again deciding to be rather safe than sorry.

The man frowned again, this time with a look of even deeper dismay on his pale face. He looked hesitating for a moment, then said, "Would -- would you want to come to the park with me, Harry?"

"I can't," Harry replied, then added hastily, "Sir. I may not leave the garden."

"Don't call me 'Sir,' Harry, please," his weird visitor said. "Call me -- call me Moony. And your uncle and aunt won't be angry. I promise."

Harry watched suspiciously the stranger. What kind of a person would have the name "Moony?" It sounded like a -- a freaky name. And everything freaky was bad, that he knew very well. And how would this Moony know that his aunt and uncle wouldn't be angry? They were _always_ angry when Harry did something bad. If he left the garden, it would be a very bad thing.

"I'll buy you an ice-cream," the man promised with a soft voice. "Come on, Harry. I'll tell your aunt that I promised you to go."

"But -- but Aunt Petunia's there," Harry said hesitantly. "In the park. With Dudley." He grasped the teddy bear and hugged it against himself. "They might take Bobby the Bear," he said quietly.

"Don't worry, Harry. I will take you to another park, where your aunt and cousin aren't," Moony said. "Will you come?"

Harry thought about it for a moment. Then, slowly, he nodded. "If it's not a bad thing," he said shyly.

"It's not." The man smiled at him for a moment. Then he said, "We can take your toys with us. Is there anything else you want to take? To keep them safe, you know -- in case your cousin and aunt come back before we do."

"Yes!" Harry said hastily. "A card from nice Mrs. Figg! And a --" He hesitated for a moment, then finished, "A photo."

Moony gave him a questioning glance, but didn't ask anything else. "We'll go and get them," he said. "Come now, you have to show me where they are."

"But -- they're inside," Harry said. "And the door's locked, since I'm not allowed inside. I might break something, Uncle Vernon said."

Moony frowned yet again, but then said, "Don't worry about that, either. I can open the door." He gave Harry a kind glance, then said, "And your uncle won't even know. He's sleeping."

"But -- what if he wakes up?" Harry asked, terrified at the mere thought. "He'll lock me away!" He closed his mouth instantly as he noticed what he'd said, but Moony'd already heard him. His golden eyes widened slightly, and he looked a bit shocked, but he didn't say anything about it.

"He won't wake up," he said instead. "I took care of it. You see," he said, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "I know... magic."

"There's no magic!" Harry argued. "Aunt Petunia says --"

"Well, Aunt Petunia isn't always right," Moony said. "You'll see. Your uncle won't wake up, we'll get your card and photo and toys, and then you'll have a nice evening in the park as well as your cousin. Okay?"

Harry could do little else but nod. This all was getting a pretty exciting tone to it -- and not a bit scary. How did this man dare question his aunt's knowledge? Aunt Petunia was never wrong. Even Uncle Vernon never disagreed with Harry's aunt.

However, he'd been taught to obey any adults that told him something. So, he followed Moony to the door of the house. He saw Moony take the odd stick from his belt and murmur something, pointing the stick at the lock. Then he pressed the handle down and, to Harry's great excitement, the door opened.

They sneaked inside the quiet house -- well, quiet except for Uncle Vernon's snoring, which was very clearly heard from the living room. Harry showed Moony to his cupboard. He didn't understand the shocked look on the man's face, but he let it pass. He wasn't allowed to question adults' feelings, much less ask something about them.

Harry soon retrieved his card and the photo from their hiding place under the mattress. Other than his few toys, they were the only things that mattered to him. The card was the only pretty thing he owned, and the photo -- well, the photo was of his parents.

It was an odd photo. It was worn out and torn from its edges, but the picture was shown clearly. A black-haired man with spectacles and hazel eyes, and a red-haired woman with eyes just like Harry's, looked at him with smiles on their faces. It was the only photo Harry had of his real parents. Sometimes, when he'd watched it for long enough, he could have sworn that they waved back at him. He knew better than to tell about it, however. When he'd first gone to his aunt telling excitedly that his parents waved at him, Aunt Petunia had said that it was a freaky thing and threatened to take the photo away from him.

Moony had an odd expression as he saw the photo. Then it was wiped off, and instead, he now looked wary. "Let's go," he said to Harry, giving him a little smile. "I'll buy you an enormous ice-cream!"

Harry smiled happily. This was going to be a good day after all.

* * *

It was a late afternoon, and Harry was stuffed. He'd never had this much ice-cream at one day -- in fact, he could only recall having ice-cream at all only twice. The first time had been at Mrs. Figg, and the other on Dudley's birthday -- there'd been some left from Dudley and his friends, and as his stomach had been aching, Aunt Petunia had let Harry eat the rest of the ice-cream. Uncle Vernon had of course said that she was going to spoil Harry rotten, but Aunt Petunia gave it anyway. 

Now, he'd had three huge ice-creams -- one vanilla, one strawberry, and one chocolate. Moony had only eaten a little chocolate ice-cream, but they'd talked all the time and walked around the park. Harry didn't know why, but somehow all the people around seemed to just ignore them. Even the kiosk keeper hadn't at first noticed them. Not that it was a bad thing by Harry's mind -- he didn't like to have too much attention centred on him. That usually only came just after he'd done something bad, or when Dudley and his friends were bullying him.

Harry was getting a bit nervous now. Soon, he'd have to go back to the Dursleys. Then they might get angry, no matter what Moony said. Then he'd be locked in the cupboard, and he'd lose his card -- and maybe even his photo!

Moony turned towards him. "It's late already, Harry," he said the dreaded words. "You should go home."

"Yes, Moony," Harry whispered in a very little voice.

"However," Moony said to his great surprise, "you don't have to."

Harry turned towards the man, his eyes wide. What was he talking about? He wasn't kidding Harry, was he?

"What about..." Moony hesitated again for a moment, then said, "What about if you came with me, Harry?"

"I could?" Harry asked, now even more shocked. Who would ever want Harry? He was a freak, that was what he'd been told all his life. His parents had been freaks, and he was a bad little boy -- that had Aunt Petunia told him too many times to forget.

"Yes, you could," the man replied gently. "But you couldn't go back to the Dursleys -- ever."

"No Dursleys?" Harry asked, feeling as if he'd just been told he was going to step to the Heaven. "No Dudley?"

"No," Moony confirmed. "I can't promise that you could get every day as much ice-cream as today -- that would rot your teeth. But, you would get a room of your own at my place, and a couple of new toys."

"But -- that would only be waste," Harry said worriedly. "Aunt Petunia always says that using money on me is only waste."

"She's wrong once again," Moony said firmly. "Besides, I have money. One of my friends -- left -- and left behind a lot of money, which I can use if I want to. I'd never use it on myself, but on you, I can use it with a good conscience. And I will."

"Then," Harry said, grinning broadly, "I'd love to come with you."

* * *

That night, Harry slept peacefully in a little bed that Moony'd already bought for him. Now Moony, or, as he was commonly known, Remus Lupin, leaned back in his chair, relaxing. 

At first he'd wondered whether he was doing the right thing as he'd been planning the "kidnapping." After seeing Harry's hand-down clothes and worn toys, leave alone the cupboard the poor boy slept in, he'd known he had been right. Most people treated their dogs better than the Dursleys treated Harry. And Harry was most definitely not a dog, he was a frightened four-year-old who'd got definitely too much of Petunia Dursley.

Well, the next day he'd talk more with Harry. He'd fix the things in the little boy's life - he had to. He wouldn't allow James's son be treated like a rat by his only living relatives.

Yes, tomorrow would be a lot better day.

Unfortunately, that was also the day Albus Dumbledore decided to check up on little Harry at the Dursleys'.

* * *

End Chapter One

* * *

Next chapter:  
Dumbledore is pissed, Harry has the time of his life, and Remus gets scared. 


	2. The Bad News

Disclaimer: I own only a little.

A/N: Here it is, the second chapter... Hope that at least somebody likes it!

Geez... Dumbledore came out a lot more human than I've probably ever portrayed him, but, oh well, he is a human after all... I think...

* * *

Under the Unlucky Star 

Chapter Two:

The Bad News

* * *

"Good morning, Harry," Moony greeted the little boy as he sneaked into the kitchen. "Slept well?" 

"Yes, Si-Moonie," the boy replied hesitantly. He could hardly believe that the man could really care whether or not he'd slept well, or that anybody could ever care about him at all. This was all so new to him, new and fascinating, that the little boy found himself wary.

Now, however, he was at least not afraid. He couldn't be, not in the homey little kitchen of Moony's house. Bright sunlight washed the freshly cleaned tables through the open windows, and the scent of various herbs hung in the air. The only one Harry could tell apart from the general scent was that of chamomile.

As soon as he was seated in front of the table he was given a big plate full of hot porridge. The boy's bright emerald eyes widened behind his worn-out glasses. He was used to have some burnt toast for breakfast, if even that. And now he had a plate of porridge -- all to himself?

At first, he was understandably hesitant to eat, but as Moony continued to smile at him encouragingly, he finally decided to give it a try. After all, if somebody was going to come and take his food away, he could at least eat some of it before that. However, by the time his plate was empty, nobody had come to take his food. And from the warm sparkle in Moony's eyes he realized that nobody would do that, either. Ever.

Harry watched in fascination as a brown owl flew inside and right to Moony. The man gave it something that looked like a small coin, but was like nothing Harry'd seen before. The owl accepted the coin, letting him put it into the small bag on its leg, then dropped the newspaper it'd been holding in its claws to the table and took off through the window.

"Wha-" he started, but then quickly shut his mouth. After all, children were not allowed to ask anything.

"Yes, Harry?" Moony raised his eyes to him from the newspaper, which he'd just started to examine. "What is it? Ask away, little one."

"Well..." At first, Harry again hesitated, then asked quickly, "What is that owl? Why'd it bring you that?"

To his great relief, the man didn't look mad at him for asking questions. Instead, his gentle smile became even broader. "Oh, this is the magical equivalent of the usual post," he said cheerfully. "The owl merely brought me today's newspaper, because I've ordered the Daily Prophet."

"The Daily -- what?" demanded Harry, his eyes very wide. He'd never heard of that before!

"The Daily Prophet," repeated Moony patiently. "It's a Wizarding newspaper." As Harry still looked like he hadn't understood the owl post thing completely, he said, "Look, I'll explain you some day, okay? But not now. Do you want more porridge, or do you want to play with your new toys while I read the newspaper? They're in the toy chest in your room."

Harry's smile got very wide. Indeed, this seemed to be becoming his best day ever, even better than the previous one.

* * *

"What do you mean you don't know where he is?" 

Vernon Dursley cowered as he had to face the fuming Albus Dumbledore who was standing in the living room of the Dursleys. "We don't know where the boy is, because he disappeared yesterday! He was playing in the garden, and when we went to look for him, he was nowhere to be seen!"

"Playing in the garden?" exclaimed Dumbledore. "You let a four-year-old boy play all on himself in the garden, not worried that he might wander off on his own, or -- or run under a car!"

"He never leaves the yard," said Petunia Dursley with a very small voice. "He doesn't dare to."

"What do you mean, doesn't dare to?" raged the ancient wizard. "Has something happened to him, then, when he's left the garden before?"

"Yup," said a quiet, almost frightened voice from the doorway. As Dumbledore glanced there, he saw a tiny boy standing there. Well, not exactly so tiny -- he couldn't have been more than four years old, but he was still fat like a well-fed pig. "If he leaves the garden, he'll be locked into his cupboard."

"DUDLEY!" bellowed Vernon, scaring his son. He'd almost never been mad at his son before. "Haven't I told you often enough NOT to talk about that?"

"Well, I tell him to talk about it," the Headmaster said coolly. "Dudley, will you show me where Harry sleeps?" he then asked, ignoring the adult Muggles' horrified expression. The boy reluctantly obeyed, and, to his immense horror, led him to a cupboard under the stairs.

"There's not anything inside," the boy informed him. "Harry took all his toys with him."

At this, Dumbledore raised his eyebrow, disbelieving. "All of his toys?" he echoed. "I hardly think that is possible, a four-year-old cannot carry a big load."

"A car, a ball, and a bear," snorted Dudley, although he was unable to hide the slight hint of fear in his voice. An infuriated Albus Dumbledore scared people much more brave than he. "That's not too much."

"The boy doesn't have more than three toys?" asked the Headmaster sharply. "How's that possible? I saw piles of toys on the front yard before I entered this wretched house!"

"Those are Dudley's toys," Vernon dared to speak up. "The freak's not allowed to play with them."

"The freak?" echoed Dumbledore. "Did I just hear you call an innocent child a FREAK? Vernon Dursley, your life is currently in very slim hangings!" Shooting them a furious glare, enraged but knowing that Harry could not be found there, he stormed away. He didn't leave, however, before shouting, "And expect to soon have Aurors on your doorstep for neglect!"

Once outside, Dumbledore sighed. It was obvious that Harry could not be found by Muggle means. So, in order to find out whether some wizard or witch had taken Harry, in which case they'd definitely used charms to keep anybody from noticing himself, he tried to find a magical trace nearby.

Soon enough, he indeed found one. This, of course, made him alarmed. The blood's protection should have kept anybody with malicious intentions away from Harry. However, after seeing how the poor boy had been treated, he had begun to doubt how much it was worth. If some Death Eater had found Harry...

Trying to push his worries away, Dumbledore followed the day-old magical trace to a nearby park. For some reason, notice-me-not charms did not affect children as well as adults. Dumbledore suspected that this somehow involved the fact that children viewed the world very differently from the way adults did. Therefore, his next action was to soon pick the picture of Harry he'd got from Arabella from his pocket and going to the children who were playing nearby.

"Hey, little ones," he said gently, knowing that they would notice him, even if the adults didn't. "Were you here yesterday?" As most of them nodded enthusiastically, he showed them Harry's picture. "When you were playing, did you happen to see this boy anywhere nearby?" he asked hopefully.

"I saw him!" piped up a girl, about seven years of age. "He was walking with some funny man!"

"Funny man?" echoed the Headmaster curiously. "Is that what you saw?"

"Yes, a funny man!" the girl repeated. "He was wearing a dress, and a rope as a belt!" She giggled.

"And what did this funny man look like?" he asked. "What colour were his eyes? What about his hair?"

"He had light brown hair and weird eyes," answered the girl. "They were weird because they were golden -- like some wolf's, or something. And I think they glowed!" A bit younger girl on her side nodded in confirmation, giggling as the elder girl mentioned the glowing.

Dumbledore sighed, knowing very well who was the only person who fit the description and probably knew where Harry was. '_Remus_,' he thought to himself. '_Oh, Remus, what have you done now?_' Searching his pockets for some sweets, he indeed found a few handfuls of Muggle sweets, and with them, bid his goodbyes to the children. As they all went back to their games, all laughing and wondering about this weird man's questions, he stood on his place, deep in thought.

For a moment, he considered Apparating to the werewolf's house. Then, however, he decided against it.

He'd been wrong about the boy before when he'd supported giving the boy to the Dursleys. He knew that Remus had offered to look after Harry immediately as the Potters had died. Of course, that couldn't have happened -- the Ministry would have never let a werewolf take care of the Boy Who Lived. Remus had tried to claim that somebody else could look after the child during full moons, which was of course a perfectly sensible argument, but then the Ministry had claimed that as he had hard time to keep any job he managed to get, he couldn't support a child. This was a lie as well; even though Sirius was now imprisoned, Remus could very well use his money as he pleased, the Animagus had taken care of that. The werewolf, of course, could never have used it on himself, but Albus suspected he'd feel no remorse about spending some or even all of the money on the poor orphan Harry. However, when even Albus himself had supported the Ministry's opinion, Remus had given up, knowing that he could not win.

Now, however, it was an opportunity for Albus to fix his past mistakes. He would not go to search for Remus, even though he knew he'd found Harry as well. The most time he could give them would be to the next day, and then, he could delay the Aurors' visit to the werewolf to give them some time to leave after the newspapers had announced the news.

He could only hope that Remus could keep Harry away from the Aurors, as then he'd for sure been sent back to that nightmarous place known as Number Four, Privet Drive.

* * *

Meanwhile, Harry was having the time of his life. He had played in the small garden of Moony's cottage, arranged his new toys into the shelves and the toy chest at least a dozen times -- he'd been taught to tidy up after himself -- and especially been with Moony. The sensation was new to him -- at last an adult really cared about him, not thinking that he was just waste of time. And when the evening was turning dark, he was sitting in Moony's lap in front of the crackling fireplace, and the man's calm, gentle voice reading an ages old fairytale washed all worries out of his mind, Harry wished that moment to go on forever. 

Unfortunately, sometimes not even the most innocent of wishes are fulfilled. Therefore, he eventually drifted off, oblivious to the arms that carried him to his little bed, or to the little goodnight kiss that was pressed on his forehead. He did, however, indeed press his cheek against the hand that caressed it.

For once, Harry could sleep happily.

* * *

The next day Harry woke up in a warm and comfortable bed. Unlike the morning before, this time he could actually believe it true. Yawning, the boy slipped off the bed and changed his pyjamas into proper clothes -- clothes that actually fitted him, even, not only somebody else's overlarge hand-me-downs. Still barefooted, he slowly made his way to the kitchen. 

When he came to the kitchen, he was surprised by the sight he met there. Moony stared at something in the newspaper, his eyes wide. Harry rubbed his eyes, wondering what had got Moony so shocked.

Suddenly, the man jumped up. "Harry," he said hastily, "we have to leave. I'm the first one they'll ask about it, it's a wonder they haven't come here already..."

If Harry'd previously been confused, now he certainly was. What on Earth was Moony talking about? Why they had to leave? And why did Moony seem so upset? Maybe -- maybe he was upset at Harry?

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry if I've done bad." His wide eyes were concentrating on the man, and he bit his lower lip.

"No, Harry," Moony said, taking immediately a softer tone. "You've done nothing wrong. All things just haven't gone as I'd planned." He frowned slightly, then added, "Eat your breakfast in peace, little one. I'll pack our things up, and then we'll leave." With this, he gestured towards the plate of delicious-smelling porridge and the glass of milk on the table on Harry's place.

"Leave?" asked Harry quietly as he sat down to the chair. "Where do we leave?" Moony had told him not to be afraid to ask anything, but he still couldn't be help but be frightened. All his life, he'd been told not to ask anything. All of the life he knew of, anyway.

"Somewhere," Moony replied carelessly. "Anywhere, actually. We'll come back once this mess is over."

"What mess?" Harry demanded, but instead of an immediate answer, he only got a hand ruffling his hair.

"Nothing that's your fault, Harry, that much I can tell you," the man said reassuringly. "Now, eat. I'll come to pick you up after some time."

So, Harry continued to eat, trying to make himself think of this as some kind of an adventure. And after they were done with their adventure, they would return to the little cottage, wouldn't they?

Little did Harry know that he would never come back to the house after he left it that day.

* * *

Far, far away, on a lonely island in the middle of an icy and stormy sea, stood a mighty stone fortress. In one of the small cells in the dungeons of the fortress, a ragged man was clutching on a newspaper. His grey eyes were so dark that they were almost black, his beard was an untidy stubble, and his black hair hang on greasy tangles down to his shoulders. He didn't seem to be interested in his haughty appearance any more than he was in his tattered robes. Instead, his eyes were feverishly scanning the article. 

"I must find him," he muttered to himself. "He's missing, they don't know where he is. I must find him..."

* * *

End Chapter Two

* * *

A/N: ::giggle:: I got even Sirius into the story... Aren't you so proud of me now... 

Next chapter: Remus and Harry escape. Aurors aren't too stupid, however.


	3. The Full Moon

Disclaimer: I own very little.

A/N: I am terribly sorry for the huge delay! To make up for that, I'd like to tell you something. There are only a couple of chapters after this one before the story of finished. Though I usually make no promises about updates, I swear that I will finish this fic before the year's end. So, you don't have to wait half a year for the next chapter.

Dumbledore continues to be human -- this must be unique for me. Usually I portray him either as an oblivious, childish fool or a manipulative bastard, sometimes both. Also, yes, Remus acts very stupidly in this chapter. However, I will (hopefully) be able to explain his behaviour in the later chaps... if you lot allow me to live that long.

* * *

Under the Unlucky Star 

Chapter 3:

The Full Moon

* * *

'_THE BOY WHO LIVED DISAPPEARED!_' announced the headlines all around the British Wizarding World. Wizards and witches read the article, then sent owls and had long conversations through the Floo network, all very worried, some even horrified. What exactly had happened to their saviour? 

Only one man managed to maintain a perfectly calm appearance. Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, led the search for the little boy with perfect calmness, never once hesitating. The Wizarding folk once again turned to him in their need of a strong leader, and were not disappointed.

However calm his appearance, in the inside, Dumbledore was getting worried. He had managed to keep the numerous Aurors looking for Harry away from Remus and the boy. However, there was no sign of the search ending any time soon. It must have been very difficult to Remus to hide with the boy. Also, the full moon was fast approaching. How was Remus going to deal with that?

Soon he didn't have much time to worry about that, either. A new piece of news shook the Wizarding World to the core, the headlines now even more desperate than before.

'_SIRIUS BLACK ESCAPED FROM AZKABAN!_' announced Daily Prophet, making its readers shiver in fear. Everybody remembered the scandal, Sirius Black betraying his best friend. And at the moment, Harry Potter was somewhere, disappeared, and nobody was there to protect him from the murderer.

Even Albus Dumbledore was now showing some signs of distress. He finally even told the Aurors to check Remus Lupin's residence for any signs of a child having been there. However, nothing was to be found, least of all the owner of the house. Finding no marks of the child they were searching, not even the slightest magical traces, however, they had to decide that Lupin probably did not have anything to do with Harry's disappearance. He was only one werewolf less to worry about -- good riddance, they thought.

Somebody knew better, though. And as the full moon drew nearer, this person was getting very distressed. Harry was with Remus, that he was sure about -- it wouldn't have been even difficult for a skilled wizard with werewolf powers to hide the signs of Harry's presence. It was very improbable, however, that Remus had found any place to keep Harry safe during the full moon.

Therefore, a sigh now escaped the Headmaster's lips as he sat in his office, reading ever new reports stating that no, none of the Aurors had found any signs of Harry. He was afraid, very afraid of what Remus might do if he couldn't get Harry somewhere safe for the full moon. Not only would the wolf kill the child, but the knowledge of having done that would most probably destroy Remus, too, driving him insane or making him commit suicide in his depression. The werewolf's worst fear had always been hurting someone during the full moon, but to actually kill the child he loved as his own? There was no way Remus would survive that. And that made Dumbledore fear not only for Harry but for Remus as well.

Also, there was Sirius to consider. The traitorous man was definitely dangerous. Remus' powers would probably be enough to win his old friend, but whether he would be able to do so was another matter altogether. Dumbledore held no illusions; he knew the two had been lovers once. What if Remus' possibly lingering feelings prevented him from taking the measures necessary to save both himself and Harry from the mass murderer? Love was known to have done even stranger things.

However, as long as Remus and Harry stayed in hiding, there was very little he could do but trust Remus to handle the situation. Therefore, he just sat in his office, receiving more useless reports from Aurors, his heart full of worry and fear for two people he loved dearly.

* * *

A dog ran through a forest. In his best days he might have been a glorious sight to some, frightening to others; an enormous size, jet-black fur, and a close resemblance to a Grim were enough to scare most people. Now, however, the animal was thin and filthy, his once magnificent fur a tangled mess of dirt and trash. His pale eyes shone like two lanterns in the quickly darkening forest as he ran forward. 

The dog stopped for a moment and glanced up to the sky, seeing the almost full moon. A shiver went down his spine as the human mind inside his canine body remembered what that meant. It meant a danger to the two people he loved most in the world -- his mate and the pup that might have just as well been his own.

Oh, yes, Padfoot did know better than well that Harry was with Remus. He had managed to sneak into Remus' house shortly after he escaped. The Aurors were indeed looking for him like he had estimated, watching Remus' home in case he sought refuge in the presence of his former lover. However, they were all told to look for a man with long, black hair and grey eyes, possibly armed with a wand, not a black Grim-like dog with pale blue eyes. It had been ridiculously easy to slip in under the cover of the darkness of night, none of the supposedly watchful Aurors noticing. Of course he hadn't found his mate and the pup there, but he had found the scent -- the scent of them both. Even after all these years he remembered those scents, the scent of the one he loved more than his own life, and that of the one he had vowed to care for like he would care for his own son. He hadn't forgotten -- and now, he feared.

It'd soon be the full moon, and Remus and Harry were still on the run. Unless Remus found somewhere safe to put the kid for the full moon night, Harry would be in grave danger. And if Moony managed to hurt the boy, there was no telling what Remus would do, as he was bound to blame himself for it.

So, if something didn't happen and fast, he would lose both of them, his whole remaining pack. And that was something Padfoot would not allow to happen.

Therefore, he ran on despite his exhaustion, trying to find a single hint of his loved ones.

* * *

Harry glanced up at the house in front of them. It was a big and old house, looking like nobody had lived in it for a while. He took a tighter grip on Moony's hand. If he'd been alone, he might have been scared, very scared. However, with Moony he was not afraid. At least not as afraid as he would have been alone, anyway. Moony made everything feel safe. 

The door was locked, but Moony did some magic and opened the door, like he had opened the front door that Uncle Vernon had locked. They stepped into the empty house. It was dark there, but Moony made light. Dust covered everything, and Harry was sure he had seen a mouse in one corner. Still, it was better than the cold, damp forest they had been in for the last few days. It was beginning to be night again, too, and Harry liked sleeping in a house much more than sleeping outside, even if the house was old and empty.

Moony had told that if they found some good place to hide at, they could stay there until they could go back home. There were still bad men looking for him, he'd said, and they would take him back to Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. Harry didn't want that. With Moony he was never cold or hungry, because Moony knew magic, and he was never alone, either. The adventure was tiring but it was still an adventure, and when Harry got too tired to walk, Moony always carried him. Moony never seemed to get tired.

However, just when they had found a nice room in the upstairs of the house, Moony suddenly seemed to remember something. Then he went very pale, glancing at the only window of the room. "There's no time..." he said, looking desperately around the room like searching for something. "There's simply no time -- I should lock myself up somewhere, but there's no time for it..."

Harry was startled. Why was Moony talking like that? Adults were never locked away. Harry was, if he was bad. Dudley never was. Why should Moony be locked away? Had he been bad, too?

He glanced around, a little nervous. What if Uncle Vernon came from somewhere and locked him and Moony away? There were a lot of dark corners in the room where Uncle Vernon could be hiding. He'd like so much to come up suddenly and frighten Harry.

Well, at least he could be with Moony, even if they were locked in the cupboard. Moony was safe. When he was with Moony, he didn't have to be scared.

The next startle came to him as Moony began taking off his clothes. What was this? Adults never behaved this way, not Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia at least. But, Moony wasn't like them. Moony was nice, so he had to be doing the right thing -- but why'd he take the clothes away? There had to be some reason for it, even though Harry didn't understand it.

At last Moony stood in front of him, naked. He folded the clothes neatly, although his movements didn't seem to be as soft and easy as always -- rather, he was doing it mechanically, like the really expensive robot Dudley had gotten for his birthday and had broken the same evening. Then Moony put the folded clothes on a high shelf.

He turned around to face Harry. Harry was startled to see a sad glint in his eyes. Had Harry been bad? Had he done something to make Moony sad? He didn't want to make Moony upset. And he didn't want to be bad, since bad kids were always punished -- well, bad Harries, anyway. Dudley never was.

Moony took a step towards him, crouching down. Then he pulled Harry into a tight, warm hug, and Harry hugged back, although he didn't understand why Moony was hugging him. Nor did he understand why Moony was now crying, little, silent tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Moony said quietly. "It shouldn't have been like this... Not like this. I should have thought better. It's my fault, Harry. You've done nothing wrong... Gods... I wish I hadn't, either..."

Harry was astonished. What was Moony talking about? What shouldn't have been like what? And what should have Moony thought about? The only thing that relieved the little boy's mind was the fact that he hadn't done anything wrong. So, it was something else Moony was upset about.

He tried to clumsily wipe the tears away in an attempt to comfort his friend, but Moony gently grasped his wrists and pushed him away. "I'm so sorry, Harry, but there's no other way, there's simply no time to do anything," he said softly. "I can just hope it'll happen fast, for I simply couldn't bear the thought of having hurt you so much. Although I'll most probably just kill myself in the morning anyway..."

Now Harry wasn't only confused, he was scared. Why was Moony talking about hurting and killing and -- and all the _wrong_ things? What was going to happen now?

"I'm so sorry, Harry..." Moony said quietly, his voice trailing off. His face was now soaked with tears, and he crawled further away from Harry on the floor.

Harry was confused. He didn't understand why Moony was sorry. He hadn't done anything he should be sorry about. Besides, adults never apologized to children, at least not to Harry, that much he knew.

Then, suddenly, Moony shrieked loudly. It was a clear cry of pain, sharp pain that made the man's whole body tremble. Harry watched in terror as the nice man he'd come to love as a parent started to change form. Moony's limbs reformed, thick, golden brown fur spurted from his skin, his nails grew into claws.

Then, with a horrible howl, the last marks of humanity remaining on Moony vanished as his face was stretched into a muzzle. His kind, golden eyes turned yellow and an evil glint entered them instead of the usual warm glow, and his ears that had always been ready to listen to Harry moved to the top of his head, becoming even more clearly pointy and animal-like.

Then, the pained howling ended. The large wolf that now stood on Moony's place rose to his four huge paws. He opened his mouth, revealing a row of sharp, dangerous-looking fangs.

With a deep growl, the wolf then turned to face Harry, a murderous glow in his yellow eyes.

Harry cried out in horror.

* * *

End Chapter Three

* * *

Next chapter: 

No, Sirius is not going to rescue Harry... Some time after the full moon, Padfoot runs through the forest only to finally find the ones he's been looking for. However, what he finds shocks him greatly.


	4. Survival

Disclaimer: I own very little.

A/N: Look, I updated! I updated already! Aren't I good, aren't I?

Honestly, what do you people think of me? Like I could kill off little Harry, or turn him into a werewolf! Sure, I may like writing angst, but even I have a heart, you know!

Yeah, I did leave you with a "bit" of a cliffie in the end of the last chapter... but at least I didn't leave you hanging for half a year again!

And yeah, Remus's irresponsible and OOC behaviour is because he's practically out of his mind due to an illness.

* * *

Under the Unlucky Star 

Chapter Four:

Survival

* * *

Harry cried out in horror as the wolf started to slowly approach. Where had Moony gone to? Could this monster really be Moony? No, this could not be true. Moony was kind and safe! 

However, the wolf kept approaching. The child stumbled away from it, not daring to turn around in fear of it attacking his back. He was lucky to not do so; if he had turned and run away, the wolf would have attacked him instantly. Now, it still stalked him, content with teasing its prey before the kill.

'If Dad was here, he could help,' Harry thought desperately. 'Dad was a great wizard; Moony has told so. Dad could save me from the monster!' An image of his father, seen in an old, worn photo, flashed in his mind's eye, and he concentrated on it, hoping with a child's heart that this would indeed save him, that his father would appear from somewhere. Then his father would take the monster away and bring Moony back and make everything good and safe again. Harry knew that he would!

Suddenly Harry noticed that the wolf seemed bigger than before. For a moment he panicked, fearing that it had still grown -- it now could eat him all in one piece! -- but then even his fearful childish mind noticed that the wolf had not grown; instead, he had gotten smaller. This shock was soon forgotten, though, as the wolf growled a bit and he raised a hand in panic to shield himself from the beast's fury. Then, however, he was shocked once again as he actually saw his hand. Instead of the small, pale hand he was used to seeing he saw something that resembled more a paw, covered with black fur.

Harry tried to scream, fearing that he would turn into a monster, too. However, what came out was an animalistic whimper, like that of a fearful dog. And then he fell down, unable to stand on two feet anymore. A bit stunned from the sudden fall and very, very confused, he looked up at the now very close wolf and whimpered again. Now he was turning into a monster, and then this Moony-monster would eat him!

However, the wolf's reaction was not what he had expected. Instead of attacking, the wolf looked a bit surprised at his whimper. Then it carefully pawed closer and lowered its mouth, fangs bare. Harry whimpered again in fear, thinking that the wolf was now surely going to eat him, but instead felt sharp teeth gently taking a grasp on his neck, never breaking the skin. The wolf laid him on the floor and then lay beside him, curling up like a big, furry nest around him, a soft tail as his blanket. For a moment Harry still was fearful, almost forgetting to breathe, but the soothing sounds and gentle licks coming from the wolf calmed him down. Slowly he found himself falling asleep, comforted by the sense of safety that now radiated from the large monster, very similar to that of Moony the human.

So, little Harry Potter slept on by the side of a werewolf, his fear forgotten in favour of peace. And the werewolf lay in guard, listening to the sounds of the night, intent on letting nobody hurt his precious cub.

* * *

Remus woke up shivering. The memories of the night before surfaced as soon as he was properly awake, making him startle. "Oh, Merlin..." he muttered. "Harry, poor Harry... How could I forget? How could I!" He tore his hair, wanting to punish himself and knowing it was not nearly enough. He couldn't understand just how he could have forgotten the full moon. Sure, he hadn't been feeling all right for a while now, but surely he wasn't delirious enough to forget such a thing? 

Shaking slightly, he sat up, looking around. Strangely enough he saw no blood anywhere, nor were there any wounds on him. That did not change anything, however. There was only one possible outcome of the last night's setting, and because of that, he deserved death.

Just then he felt something soft and warm brushing his skin.

Looking to his other side, Remus saw something lying on the floor right next to him. At first it looked like a black pile of fur, but soon he realized that there was something inside that fur. To be exact, a small, black-coated wolf cub -- one with the white shape of a lightning bolt on his little forehead.

For a moment Remus just stared at the cub, not wholly understanding what had happened. Then he stood wearily, wincing at the pain of doing so, a quiet, though tired chuckle escaping his lips. "I should have known," he muttered. "It is not like James Potter could ever have a son without a secret or two."

He then headed for the self that held his clothes. Grimacing, he remembered the previous night. Oh, he had behaved very oddly indeed. However, by the time he remembered that it was full moon, he had known that there would be no way for Harry to be saved -- or at least he had thought so. The old house wouldn't have held a werewolf away. It'd been better, he'd thought, to have it over soon, rather than have Harry fearing the monster growling behind the door and wondering why Moony abandoned him in danger. Folding his clothes -- was he truly that neurotic? Well, rather it had been clinging to his usual rituals for comfort. As long as he did what he usually did, he could feel that there was a tiny hint of sanity still hiding within him.

Sighing, he then glanced at the child. This was not right. He couldn't care for Harry if he couldn't even remember the full moons! Sure, if the boy had truly inherited his father's Animagus skills, he would be safe, but that was not the point. The full moon, and the danger it posed, was about the most important thing he had to remember and take into account in everything he did. As he had forgotten it, putting Harry in danger, he clearly wasn't fit to be the child's guardian. It'd be better for them both if he just went and gave Harry to the authorities, perhaps telling that he had found the child wandering in the forest.

And Harry would be taken back to the Dursleys.

No. He couldn't allow that to happen. He could only go on and hope that there would be no more random acts of insanity, for that was what he considered his forgetfulness to be.

With a new sigh he sat down next to the peacefully sleeping cub, resting his head on his knees. He was aching all over; although the wolf's instincts to protect the cub had kept him from hurting himself, the transformation was still pure torture and most certainly made its consequences known. The cold of the abandoned house was creeping to him, making him shiver and quickly cast a couple of warming charms to warm up the room. Also he had a feeling of lightheadedness that did not usually accompany the aftermath of a transformation, a symptom, he felt, was most curious. Did it have something to do with his forgetting the full moon? Or was it something else entirely -- and what was it, exactly?

However, along with the lightheadedness and ache, also the exhaustion crept to him. Laying himself on his side on the floor, he curled around little Harry much like he had done the previous night, only now he had no tail to cover the child with. So, he draped an arm over the little ball of fur, hoping to keep him warm.

A moment later they were both asleep.

* * *

In the afternoon two days later Remus watched as Harry looked out of the window to the recently begun rain outside. After waking up again the day after the full moon he had told the child that they would remain where they were for a few days to rest and collect strength. Harry was already getting better at controlling his hereditary Animagus skills, which only went to show just how great his potential was; once he got them wholly under control they could return to his home and wait for the worst commotion to die down, then perhaps try to approach Dumbledore or just downright hide in the plain sight. 

They were both enjoying this well-deserved rest, that was for sure. Remus was now almost wholly recovered from the full moon and Harry, while still thinking of their journey as an "adventure", was glad to just sit for a while and play with the toys Remus transfigured from other objects.

Suddenly an alarming feeling came to him, the wolf scratching at the back of his mind. Remus tensed. This close to full moon all his instincts were at their peak, and thus, he immediately knew that somebody was approaching the house. And not just any someone, but a very particular person.

_Sirius_.

He shivered a bit as the wolf roared in the back of his mind, sensing its mate even after years of separation. That was the only reason why he already knew about the approaching man while he was still relatively far; had it been anybody else he might have been alerted just in time to make Harry transform and hide all evidence that there was anybody in the abandoned house except for him and his little very wolf-like puppy.

However, Sirius knew all about Animagi. Being an Animagus at the age of four was exactly what he would _expect_ from his wondrous godson. He would not be fooled by any trick.

Now, Remus sighed. "I'm sorry, Harry," he said, sounding apologetical, "but we have to leave. Don't worry about the rain, though; I'll make sure we don't get wet." As the child gave him a questioning gaze, he said, "A bad man is coming this way... A man who might hurt us if he found us. We have to escape from him." Even as he said this he doubted whether they could do that. Sure, he could always outrun Sirius, man or dog; however, he was now feeling rather weak and was not certain about his own endurance. Still, he was going to try. Apparating was only the last resort, as the Ministry might pick up Harry's magical signature if he was side-Apparating; they would run until they couldn't do that anymore.

Harry just nodded seriously, obedient as ever. For once Remus was almost thankful that the boy had been taught such obedience and submission by the Dursleys; not exactly, but almost. Gathering up what little things they had, he then took them both quickly downstairs, casted a water repelling charm, and ran.

For some time Harry ran by his side in his wolf form, which was far better at running than his human self. Then, however, Remus noticed that the cub's steps were faltering, and picked Harry up. He then continued running from the presence of Sirius the wolf was still picking up, the now human-formed child clinging to his neck. However, no matter how he ran, Sirius was only getting nearer.

Suddenly Remus felt his steps faltering, even though the ground wasn't any more uneven than it was anywhere else. He had just enough time to stop and place Harry on the ground to avoid hurting him. Then, however, a blanket of darkness fell over him, and he knew no more.

* * *

Harry watched in horror as Moony, right after suddenly stopping and putting him on the ground, collapsed to the ground. In an instant the water repelling charms disappeared, letting the rain pour down on them. However, the child hardly even noticed this as he turned his concerned attention to Moony. 

"Moony!" shouted Harry, desperately trying to shake the unmoving man awake. "Wake up, Moony! Moo-_ny_!" Something was seriously wrong and Harry knew it. This was not supposed to happen. His friend wasn't supposed to fall asleep, not in the middle of the forest. It was still day, even, and it was _raining_. If Moony slept there, he would get cold -- and so would Harry, who couldn't leave without Moony.

However, Moony did not wake despite his desperate attempts. No matter how hard he shook the man or how loudly he shouted his name, Moony didn't stir, didn't open his eyes. And even Harry's little hands could feel the fire that was burning under the pale skin. Moony was sick and wouldn't wake up!

Fear clutched Harry's little heart as he fell to his knees next to Moony, rain drops mixing with tears on his pale face. What if Moony never woke up? What if Moony... died? He was sick, that Harry knew, and sick people could die if the sickness was very bad. And it _had_ to be bad if he didn't even hear Harry!

Sobbing, the child clutched on the robes of his unconscious guardian. Moony had to wake up, wake up and take them both somewhere away from this cold, damp forest. Harry was cold and tired and oh so frightened, frightened that his only friend in the world would die and leave him all alone there in the forest. No matter how much Harry told himself that it would be okay, that Moony would heal, he didn't find it in himself to believe. During his short life he had already learnt that things never went as he wished.

Neither the tears nor the rain stopped, nor did the quiet sounds of sobbing erupting from the tiny child. Also the ragged breaths continued entering and leaving the unconscious werewolf's chest.

However, unlike the other continuous things, the breaths did falter every now and then.

* * *

Padfoot picked up the pace as he caught a more recent trail right next to the house. Rain made tracking very difficult, especially as the track he'd been following until then was several days old; however, a Grim's sense of smell went beyond even that of the best dogs, and he had indeed managed to track down Remus and Harry. With great relief he had noted that the boy was obviously still alive and at least relatively unharmed. He knew that he was close to catching them now. All he had to worry about was how exactly he was going to keep Remus from attacking him at first sight. Maybe a direct explanation would be the best solution. Yeah, he would try that. Thank Merlin he'd always been good at dodging curses. 

Suddenly, however, his ears caught something alarming. Too quiet to be heard by anybody or anything else, the sounds of a child's crying were clear to the Grim even covered with the noise of the seemingly endless, heavy rain. Running even faster than before he headed for the source of sound.

When Padfoot came near enough to see the scene he was so shocked that he almost fell over. The sobbing child was indeed Harry, like he had half hoped, half feared. The thing the child was crying over, however, shocked him. There, on the cold, unforgiving ground, lay Remus, _his_ Remus. As he got nearer and quickly transformed into his human form, he noticed a feverish glow on the otherwise pale face. He noticed other things as well, differences to the Remus Lupin he had once known and so much loved.

This Remus was, for one thing, far thinner than the one he'd known. Too stubborn and proud to use his former lover's money to even properly feed himself, Sirius concluded. His robes were a bit on the worn side, and there was a lot more silver in his hair than Sirius had remembered there to be. Most of the lines on his face were also new, and Sirius found himself wondering how just a few years could have made such a difference. Just what had Remus been through without him to help?

Before he got any further with his thoughts, however, he felt somebody tugging at his sleeve. Turning to look he saw Harry watching him intently. "Are you a bad man?" the child asked seriously. "Moony said that a bad man was coming and he would hurt is if he found us. Are you going to hurt us?"

Sirius swallowed. Yes, that was what Remus would tell about him. "No, Harry," he said, trying to appear as calm as possible despite the circumstances. "I am not a bad man. I could never do anything that might hurt you or Moony." Ignoring the child's queries as of how he knew his name, he turned again to his lover.

And then he noticed that Remus did not breathe anymore.

* * *

A/N: Don't kill me! Please, I beg of you... if you kill me, you'll never get another chapter! 

Next chapter: And what did Sirius do then?


	5. The Conclusion

Disclaimer: I own something.

A/N: I didn't mean it. Honestly, I didn't. It just... happened. And that's why this chapter is the Last One.

Yes, the last. I have finished this story at last. And it only took me Merlin knows how long...

And yes, this is exactly how I picture Ollivander -- one who knows everything, sees people's motives, and such. He always seems to know more about people than they do themselves; he'd be very probable to actually believe Sirius's story.

The Adoption Charm they mention in the story is not just any adoption spell; it's a very specific charm, one that affects the child's appearance and even personality to a degree. For a further look into it, read one of my other fics featuring it -- **Like Father, Like Son** is probably the best if you want to understand how it works.

...And did you really think I'd let _Remus_ die? Honestly...

* * *

Under the Unlucky Star 

Chapter Five:

The Conclusion

* * *

For a moment Sirius panicked, pure and simple. Then, remembering that there was a child next to him, a child who was currently counting on him to get them all well and safe, he forced himself to calm down. After a quick search he found Remus' wand, grasping it desperately. 

Using another person's wand never has as good results as using the person's own wand. However, Sirius and Remus shared a special bond -- that of a werewolf's mating. Even after years apart, that bond still existed. Therefore, Sirius did not hesitate to raise the wand and start whispering incantations.

At first he thought his efforts had no result, and began to feel desperate. Then, however, he saw Remus' chest moving slightly with a faltering breath. Casting the spells again, he then breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the werewolf's breath become steadier. Then he turned towards Harry, who was watching him with wide eyes. "Are you all right, tiny one?" he asked.

"Y-yes, sir," Harry said quietly. "But I am cold," he then added very quietly.

"I see." Sirius quickly casted a warming charm, hoping with all his heart that using Remus' wand would change his magical signature enough to keep the Aurors from detecting him. Apparently it did, as there were at least not yet Aurors Apparating to the place to arrest him. A water repelling charm later, he turned again towards the child. "Can you walk for a while, kiddo?" he asked.

"I -- I think so, sir," Harry replied shyly. "Where are we going to go? Will -- will Moony be okay?"

"I hope so, kiddo," sighed Sirius. "And we're going to go to the nearest place that has a working Floo connection. Let's hope I'm not entirely mistaken about where we are at the moment, since if I'm right, I know exactly where to go." With these words, he crouched down and gently collected his lover in his arms.

For some time they walked on in silence, not running like Remus and Harry had done before but still not exactly slowly. After some time Harry transformed to save this strength, startling Sirius.

"Just what did you do, kiddo?" he asked, staring. The little wolf looked up at him with big eyes. Then, there was a blur at his place, and a moment later little Harry looked up at him, looking startled.

"I'm sorry, sir," he whispered. "Did I do bad? I didn't know it was bad. Moony never told me not to change, Moony said that it was good. I'm really sorry for changing!"

"No, it's -- it's okay," Sirius stammered, still staring at the boy. "If you can walk better in that form, by all means, change into it. I was just a bit startled by your sudden change."

Looking relieved, Harry nodded, then transformed again. Then they continued their journey through the forest, a man, a werewolf, and a wolf, all side by side.

* * *

It was nightfall when they finally reached their destination. Little Harry, exhausted from the long trek, had some time ago jumped to Sirius' arms. The adult Animagus didn't mind, bearing this little addition to his burden without any complaint. With sheer stubbornness he forced himself to go on, carrying the two he loved towards the only place where he could now get some aid. 

The cottage was a small but homely building outside the village. Sirius immediately took his beloved burden inside, a quick "_Alohomora_!" taking care of the lock. Laying Remus down on a couch he at first had Harry wipe the worst dust away from, he then glanced around the room for the pot of Floo powder he knew to be there. Spotting it, he immediately went for it.

"Who owns this house?" asked Harry just then behind him. "Won't they be angry at us for being here?"

"No, I don't think so," Sirius said, a tiny smile at his lips. "You see, this house belongs to Remus's family -- or, ever since his aunt passed away, to him. Nobody wants to buy the place, so he's stuck with it."

"Why not?" asked Harry, sounding confused. "It is such a nice house!"

"That's because everybody thinks that the house is haunted," Sirius said cheerfully. He was beginning to feel a bit better now, safe from the rain and about to get some help for Remus. "That's not true, though, so you don't need to be scared. This is just an old house with nothing to fear." And now, he took some Floo powder. Casting a magical fire in the fireplace, he threw the powder in it, then yelled a name.

Escaped from prison, currently staying with the one child the whole Wizarding World was looking for, Sirius was taking quite a risk at contacting anyone. However, he was ready to take that risk, for he believed it would all turn out all right in the end. There was only one person who might believe his story, just because he would know it was true -- and that person would surely be able to get Remus some help.

So, falling to his knees, Sirius stuck his head in the fireplace and started a conversation with Ollivander.

The old wizard of course knew that he was innocent before he could say one word. After a couple of questions -- the first being, "Is the boy all right?" before he had even told that he had Harry -- Ollivander nodded. "I will send my sister there," he said. "She'll be able to help poor Remus."

"Thank you," Sirius breathed, very relieved. He then ended the conversation, coming back to the reality of the little cottage. Seeing Harry yawn, he put the boy sleep in the smaller of the two bedrooms. Then he got a blanket for Remus, and with newly found strength, determined not to fall asleep, began to clean.

He just finished cleaning the kitchen when he heard somebody coming through the fireplace. A tiny bit of doubt crept into his heart; what if Ollivander had called Aurors after all? However, as he entered the living room, he saw a tiny witch wiping soot from her clothes. The resemblance to her brother was uncanny.

"You can call me Jemena," she said as a means of greeting. "And you're Sirius Black, then? I can see what my brother meant; there's no way you were guilty. Now, where is the patient?"

Sirius showed her to the still unconscious werewolf, very worried for his former lover. As he then saw her starting to fuss about with the air of somebody who knows exactly what they are doing, he sighed in relief. Surely Remus would be all right in the hands of such a capable healer.

A moment later Jemena looked up at him. "Go to sleep," she ordered, her words leaving no room for disagreements. Blinking, Sirius at first hesitated a bit, then headed for the bigger bedroom.

Sirius thought that he couldn't sleep anyway, the worry for Remus being too heavy on his mind. However, as soon as his head touched the pillow, he fell asleep.

* * *

When Sirius woke up, the sun was shining brightly outside. He rose from the bed, noticing that he was still in full clothes -- well, if you could call 'clothes' the rags he had left from Azkaban -- and staggered out of the room. On the couch in the living room he saw Remus, who now seemed to be merely peacefully sleeping instead of unconscious. Taking this as a good sign, he headed for the kitchen. 

"Good morning, sir!" he heard Harry's cheerful greeting. "Auntie Jemena made me breakfast!"

"'Auntie Jemena?'" echoed Sirius, raising an eyebrow at the witch who was seated opposite to Harry.

"Well, he had to call me _something_," Jemena replied calmly. "Your werewolf friend will recover," she then said, knowing instantly what worried him the most. "He'll be very weak for quite some time, and will probably have to be careful not to exhaust himself for the rest of his life. However, he'll be able to lead an absolutely normal life. And before you ask, he had a Lunatome," she then said. "It's a disease only werewolves can catch. The symptoms include growing weakness, forgetfulness, deliriousness, and finally breathing difficulties -- the last one usually causes the death. From what I understood of little Harry's explanation, you saved him from dying of lack of oxygen as his breath was stopped."

"So he'll be all right?" Sirius questioned franticly. "It won't make him die sooner or anything?"

"Oh, no," Jemena said. "At least not if he's not overexerted or put under some strong curse. The disease will leave him with a weak heart and occasional breathing difficulties, so I suggest you look after him."

"Oh, I will -- as long as I can hide from the Aurors," Sirius said with a wry smile. "As soon as they find us, I'll be put back to Azkaban or given the Kiss and Harry will be taken away. Merlin knows what'll become of Remus then, assuming that they don't accuse him of kidnapping Harry and put him in prison, too."

"That matter can be resolved," Jemena said calmly. "I have already arranged everything with my brother. And before you start to worry, I'll tell you this: Dumbledore contacted my brother, telling that if Remus Lupin contacted him, the werewolf was to be given all help he needed, including help to hide from the Aurors. It seems that the Headmaster doesn't want Harry to return to his relatives, either."

"But -- what can you do?" asked Sirius, stunned. "It's not like you can change my identity or something!"

"Close enough," she said, not batting an eyelid. "We'll tweak the records of Sirius Black's magical signature. Then we'll get you a new wand and a new record with a different name, along with some semi-permanent Glamouring Charms. And as for Harry, well, a simple Adoption Charm will help you hide him in plain sight. The Aurors will probably get suspicious when Remus Lupin suddenly has a new lover and an adopted child when everybody is looking for Sirius Black and Harry Potter. However, if their own records claim the two of you have nothing to do with Sirius and Harry, there's little they can do."

Sirius nodded slowly. "What can we ever do to repay you?" he then asked quietly.

"Raise Harry properly," Jemena replied. "Let him have a happy childhood and enter Hogwarts when the time comes. Also, inform me when you're going to get his wand for him -- I want to be present for that." Then, just as Sirius opened his mouth to thank her again, she added, "Oh, and go take a bath. _Please_."

* * *

"Well, well, look at this," said a wizard with reddish brown hair down to his mid-back and pale blue eyes. "They have found some traces of Sirius Black's magic mingled with that of Harry Potters. As unfortunate as it is, they have reasons to believe that one or both of them are dead as a result of a magical clash. In any case, it is useless to try to find them anymore. Thus, the search will be ceased." 

"That's a relief," said the man sitting opposite to him, this one with greying golden brown hair pulled back on a ponytail. "No matter what, I've spent every day worrying whether they're going to come here."

"Even if they did, they wouldn't find anything," the other man reminded him. "Relax, Remus."

"That's easier said than done, Dave," Remus replied, sighing a bit. "You know me. I can't help but worry."

Dave smiled sadly, reaching his hand over the table to rest it atop Remus'. This made the werewolf smile weakly at him. "Calm down, love. James'll notice and freak out."

They had now pretty much settled down to their new life. Once Remus had woken up it hadn't taken much to convince him that Sirius was indeed innocent. Shortly after that, Sirius became Dave and Harry James Lupin -- their new identities included new names, of course. Even their cover-up story was clear: Remus had disappeared to spend some time alone with his lover, whom he had then married -- thank Merlin for gay marriages being legal in the Wizarding World. When Remus' cousin had then died, leaving a little son, they had decided to adopt him and name him James for Remus' deceased friend. The cute boy with his huge blue eyes and golden brown hair was always attracting attention, true, but none of the wizards and witches they had come across had made any connection to the still missing Harry Potter.

So now the little family lived happily in their cottage some way from a semi-magical village. As Sirius had left Remus free access to his money, they had no worries about living, although the adults were planning to get jobs once James went to school. They were planning to keep him at home until he got over his at times invincible shyness -- a result of years of abuse and neglect -- but eventually he'd have to go to school, even if it was only to have some contact with other kids. When that happened, they were bound to get bored if they weren't working.

At the moment James was already outside playing while his adoptive parents were finishing their breakfast. Along with a child's laughter, they heard a dog barking -- they had bought the boy a puppy as soon as they could, knowing that it would definitely fit in, given their canine natures.

Remus had been very startled when one day he had seen Dumbledore in the fireplace. Even more startled he had been when the Headmaster had congratulated him and Sirius for having Harry, and asking them to take good care of him. Oblivious to his halfhearted protests the Headmaster had told that he knew the truth and didn't mind, admitting the mistake he had done with sending Harry to the Dursleys. The only thing he asked for was that they'd keep him updated about James' life and allow him to visit every now and then. Of course they had promised to do that. Even the full moon problem was solved as Dumbledore heard of James' Animagus skills -- before that, he had suggested that he could care for the child once a month. Of course the fact that such a small child had accomplished such a thing surprised him, but he didn't appear too shocked. Most probably it was just what he'd expected from little Harry Potter -- er, James Lupin.

Today, however, they actually had something to do -- or, rather, Remus had. This thing was his checkup with Jemena, who had insisted to be the only one who would treat him. Remus hadn't protested much, of course -- Jemena was the only mediwitch, aside from Poppy Pomfrey, who had ever treated him as a human, not a beast. And for that reason alone Dave absolutely adored the woman.

So, that afternoon, Dave took James and the dog -- who was called Sirius, much to Dave's half amused annoyance -- for a walk, while Remus stayed behind. Soon enough Jemena arrived, immediately starting to cast examination charms. "You haven't overexerted yourself, right?" she asked sharply from Remus.

"No, I haven't, Jemena," he replied with a suffering sigh. "Besides, it's not like Dave would even let me!"

"And in stopping you he does right," the tiny witch replied firmly. "You may refuse to understand it, Remus, but it's your _life_ we're concerned about. Any extra effort might be too much for your heart; it's a miracle that you still survive your transformations. You don't want to do that to Dave and James, now do you?"

"Of course not," the werewolf replied softly, casting his eyes down to the floor. And he didn't. He already knew that it was hard on them both to know how much he suffered during the transformations; even James, who perhaps didn't understand all of it, did know that his Dad was in pain, and thus James was sad. There was no way Remus would let even more pain to come to them by deliberately killing himself.

"That's good," Jemena said. "Now, you do seem to be all right at the moment. But do remember!" was the last she said before disappearing through the fireplace, not even staying for tea in her hurry.

When Dave and James returned, they found an extraordinarily gloomy werewolf quietly sipping tea in the kitchen. However, even these slightly darker moments didn't manage to completely block the light.

* * *

Sometimes when they all were on a walk through the village on a sunny day, little James skipping between his two guardians, some stranger would stop and stare at them. But the others, those who lived in the village, would just wave their hands and say, "Oh, you know. That's just Lupins, a very weird family indeed, but so happy they are. Remus is, the poor boy, often sick, but he and Dave take _so_ good care of little James. You'd almost think he's their own, they love him so much... And each other, too." 

And, at hearing this, they'd gently smile at each other. Dave would pick James up with no difficulty, for he still was very tiny for his age. And Remus would wrap an arm around Dave's shoulders, and they would continue their walk, happy and content as they were.

At those times, they could almost believe that they were living under a lucky star after all.

* * *

End Story

* * *

A/N: Thank you for bearing with me all this time... I hope you enjoyed the story, short as it may be. I'm not one for long adventures, at least not when I'd have to write them myself, so everything had to be resolved pretty quickly.  



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